L is for Liar
by Tigerlily74
Summary: A series of diary entries written by PLL characters like the Liars, Mona, and more
1. A is for Arrogance

Ch. 1: A is for Arrogance

 _ **Arrogance - noun - an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people**_

Dear Diary,

You know what they say, people always get what they deserve. And sooner or later, those girls are going to get what they deserve. I'll make sure of it. You may be wondering who exactly I am referring to when I say "those girls." I mean Alison DiLaurentis, the most popular and horrible girl in school and her little clique. First, there's Spencer: the most annoying little perfectionist I know. Hanna, who stuffs her feelings with pie. Emily looks sweet, but she is really a prodding worm. And Aria, oh I could go on for hours. The point is I hate these girls. Always have. Always will. They have made my life a nightmare ever since their little clique formed, and I vow to do the same to them someday. At night, they only thing I pray for is that those girls will get what they deserve. That karma will come back to bite them. I fantasize about revenge, planning each and every one of their murders in unique ways. I'd give Ali a killer perfume, bludgeon Spencer, kill Hanna with a piggy cupcake, drown Emily and stab Aria with one of her fork-like earrings. I write all of my murder plans down in this diary; a journal that I have kept under lock and key. In my spare time, I like to brainstorm ways to make them squirm. I have a whole list of things that I wish I could do to them if I got the chance. I have also spent hours and hours researching these girls. I know about every single detail of their lives: big or small. My minions and I follow them around town, around Rosewood, writing in our diaries every single thing they do, every move they make. And some of the things that I know they've done are terrible, wretched things that could bring the police running before Ali D could even muster, "Scram!" But, I don't tell. I don't tell because I'm saving up their secrets for something big. And I could kill them, too. But I don't. Because what I want even more than to see them dead, is to torture them, the way they torture me every day. Some may call me crazy, but I'm not a lunatic. I'm just doing what any sane person would do in my place. Who doesn't plot elaborate murders down to the detail? I, for one, have done it all my life. And I do believe it's a very interesting stress relief technique. I have found myself doing it more and more often now that Alison's torture has escalated. But I know I will never be able to stand up to her face. I have to come up with another way. I will come up with another way.

Sincerely,

Mona


	2. B is for Brutality

Ch 2: B is for Brutality:

 **Brutality - savage physical violence; great cruelty**

Dear Diary,

I am not actually writing in you. I wish I could write this down somewhere, anywhere, but I can't. There's no paper here, not a single sheet. So, instead, I'm just crafting this diary entry in my head. I'll write it down once I get home. _If_ I get home. You might not know what I'm talking about- so I'll tell you. I haven't gotten a chance to write in you since before everything happened. Alison was decided guilty, and Aria, Emily and I were arrested as accomplices. The three of us and Hanna were going to be shipped over to another prison facility, but A hijacked the van and brought us… here. Where I am now. Mona's here too. I guess A must have captured her too and brought her here. The five of us came up with a plan to escape.. which failed. We were locked outside with no food or water for about a day. I think by then all of us were thirsty enough to drink our own pee. A, Charles, whoever this person is finally let us back in, only to gas us. When we woke up, we were lying on cold, hard, metal slabs. We didn't know what happened to us. We still don't know what happened to us. We went back to our rooms, and got tortured. No, I shouldn't use the past tense. We're _still_ being tortured. How did my life get like this? I ask myself that almost every day. Three years ago, my biggest worry was what to wear to school, if I would make field hockey tryouts. I don't care about that stuff anymore. All I care about is that my friends and I will be able to make it out of this… human dollhouse… alive. Now, the automated voice is coming over the loudspeaker in my room. It's telling me to pick someone to shock; Aria, Emily or Hanna. It's yelling at me, screaming. Pick now. Pick now. Pick now. I can't. I just can't. Pick now or you'll get shocked, it says. Pick now. I swallow my tears, and slam down one of the levers. No, someone screams. This isn't happening. This _can't_ be happening. This is all just a dream.

Help me,

Spencer


	3. C is for Corrupt

Ch. 3: C is for Corrupt (credit to Boris Yeltsin for the idea)

 _ **Corrupt - having or showing a willingness to act dishonestly in return for money or personal gain.**_

Dear Diary,

If I had to describe the Rosewood police in one word, it would be corrupt. Corrupt. Corrupted. I don't know what's wrong with this town's police school. How can they allow such horrid cops to pass through? These people have continually blamed my daughter and her friends and even _me_ for crimes. Over and over and over. These people, Wilden, Tanner, blamed my daughter and her friends for murdering Mona, murdering Alison. Both of whom were actually alive. These girls have been through so much; they've been stalked, put in a human dollhouse, almost killed several times, and Lieutenant Tanner still has the nerve to blame them for another murder. She knows what they've been through. She's just so twisted, so corrupt, so horrible, that she can't see straight. She doesn't care about the girls, about anyone. She doesn't care about who she puts behind bars, she just cares about her cases. And now she's blaming the girls for Charlotte's death. She hasn't said it explicitly, but everybody knows what's brewing in her annoying little head. I should have predicted this. I should have know this was coming. I can't believe I didn't see this coming; considering how terrible these cops are. First, there was Wilden. He took a bribe from me to get my daughter off the hook after she shoplifted. Corrupt. Then he threatened my daughter, so I ran him over with my car. Corrupt. Then he was killed by Charlotte DiLaurentis because, once again, he was CORRUPT. Then there was Garrett. He was a cop and was put in a cell. Corrupt. Then, Holbrook. He was kicked off the force. Corrupt. Tanner, she bothers me. She always thinks she knows exactly what's going on, but she really knows nothing. And I would expect her to be more sympathetic, because she knows what the girls have gone through. But nope. She just continues to blame them. I'm venting. But I really think Rosewood needs to rethink their police force.

Sincerely,

Ashley Marin


	4. D is for Destruction

Ch. 4: D is for Destruction

 _ **Destruction - the action or process of causing so much damage to something that it no longer exists or cannot be repaired.**_

Dear Diary,

Destroyed. Damaged. Doomed. Those are three words that currently describe my relationship with Ezra Fitz, my former English teacher, my former lover, my former friend. Tonight, I found out probably the most upsetting news I have ever received. Ezra was using me. For a book. A stupid, stupid book. The whole time we were dating; when we met in the bar. That wasn't a coincidence. That wasn't just luck, that wasn't just chance, that wasn't just fate or destiny. That was manipulation. When I think about how many people I defended him to, my parents, my friends, everyone. And this whole time, he was just using me. Thinking about it makes me want to throw up. I loved him. I really, really loved him. Notice that I'm using the past tense here. He keeps telling me that he never lied about his feelings for me. But how am I supposed to trust him? How am I supposed to trust him now, or ever again? Now I have to question everything. Everything he's ever said, was it a lie? Did he really love me? Or was he just using me? And he must have known about A, with all of his little "research." How could he just sit there and not help me? I don't want to believe it, but there's just one answer to that question. He never really loved me. I don't want to think about this. I can't. I just want to go back, I just want to go back to Iceland, where everything was so simple and so easy. I didn't have to constantly worry about my personal cyber stalker watching my every move, I didn't have to worry about Alison, or Ezra, or anything else. In Iceland, everything just went away. All my worries, and regrets. All of the bad memories from Rosewood, they were just gone. Wiped away from existence. I can't wait for college. I can't wait to get away from this tiny, screwed up town. And once I get away, I'm never coming back. I don't ever want to be hurt like this again, and I know being in this town won't help. I wish I could run away. Run away from this wretched town, and all of my problems. But, it doesn't work like that. Wherever I go, A will follow me. All of my memories will follow me, Ezra's secret will follow me and haunt me. What I need right now is to never see Ezra again. And, maybe someday, if I'm lucky, I'll be able to forget about him.

Sincerely,

Aria


	5. E is for Escape

Ch. 5: E is for Escape

 _ **Escape - break free from confinement or control**_

Dear Diary,

You are the only person I can talk to. My only friend in this lonely world. I wish this wasn't the case, but it is. This is my life. My sad, lonely life living in a mental institution. When I was little, my mother and father dropped me here. My mom visits me often, but my dad has never visited me. Not even once. And, wow, I thought that was the worst of it. Two years ago, stupid little Bethany Young had to go and push that goody-two-shoes Mrs. Cavanaugh off the roof. Oh, and of course she had to blame me for it. Everybody just blames me for everything. Oh, you stole the key to the day room? Just blame me. You snuck out of Radley? Just blame me. I'm tired of taking the blame. And I'm sick of being in this stupid place. I hate it and everyone in it. Everyone seems nice, but they're all just psychotic freaks who couldn't tell the difference between a giraffe and a monkey. They all just sit around and paint pictures of flowers all day. I mean, who cares about flowers? Flowers are stupid. And I don't want to live my life painting flowers all day. What I want is revenge. Revenge on my father and everyone who's hurt me. Revenge on that psycho life-ruiner, Bethany and her twisted roommate, Lesli. I feel like I can't trust anyone. I trusted Bethany, and yup, you know what happened with that one. The only person that I can really trust is my mother. She is the only one who's had my back this whole time. And Aunt Carol. But, anyways, back to my mother, she's the best. When Bethany blamed Mrs. Cavanaugh's death on me, she paid off that annoying cop guy Wilden to tell everyone that it was a suicide. And she also buys me very pretty dresses that I love to wear when no one else is watching. Uh oh, the orderly is coming in to check on me. We're not supposed to have diaries. Got to go.

Sincerely,

Charles


	6. F is for Framed

Ch. 6: F is for Framed (credit to Boris Yeltsin for the idea)

 _ **Frame - to produce false evidence against an innocent person so that they appear guilty**_

Dear Diary,

I can't believe this. Spencer, Aria, Emily, Hanna, Alison. They're all being framed for Mona's murder. I know who did this. I know who did this for a fact; it's A. Isn't it always? That guy or girl has some stupid vendetta against the girls, against Spencer, my girlfriend, that I wish he or she would just forget about. I mean, haven't you done enough, A? You've hurt Spencer so many times. You locked her in a room with snakes. You tried to choke her on that halloween train. You almost froze her to death. And now you've sent her to jail for something she didn't do. My poor, innocent Spencer. If I could, I'd take her place, so I'd be the one locked in a cell, not her. I know I could handle it, I have before. She's so strong, and I know she'll be able to handle it too, but she's just so tiny, and the girls in there can be vicious. And I worry about her. Because I love her so, so much. This is so unfair. Why, of all people, did this have to happen to Spencer? What did she ever do to deserve this? What has she ever done to hurt anybody? I don't know the answer to any of those questions. But I do know one thing. I will find A. And once I get ahold of that person, I'll kill them. I won't kill them for revenge, or for justice, as much as I hate them for doing what they've done to her. I'll kill them so they'll never be able to hurt Spencer or her friends ever again. So she can finally live the happy life she deserves. Hopefully, with me. But, if not, that's okay too. I just want her to be happy.

Sincerely,

Toby


	7. G is for Gossip

Dear Diary,

It's been a bad day. A sent Mona a text about me getting liposuction. I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that. It's all just gossip; just rumors. One girls even had the nerve to come up to me and ask me what the name of my liposuction doctor was. Ugh. As if. And you know, what's even worse that A spreading this stupid rumor, is that Mona actually believed it. How could she be so naive, to believe an anonymous text rather than me, her best friend. I can't believe her. I know I haven't really been there for her recently, and she's mad at me for that. But, I have a good reason. I really do. Spencer, Aria, Emily and I are being stalked. It's horrible; it feels like someone is watching you 24/7. But, I can't tell her that. It would put her at risk. And even though we're in a fight right now, I still care about her. She's still my friend. And, Naomi and Riley are making it even worse. They're acting all smug; thinking they can take my place as queen bee. Well, they can't. Actually, maybe the can. Maybe I should just stop caring about being popular. I have so much else going on in my life that I haven't really been thinking much about popularity. I mean, when your sort of best friend is dead, and you have a stalker on your tail, it's kind of hard to think about my queen bee status, let alone manage it. I really need to learn to stop caring about popularity, and start worrying about finding out who A is. Wow, I can't believe I'm saying that. Life used to be so easy. The only thing I had to worry about was whether my mother would let me go hang out with the girls on the weekend. I know this is completely off topic, but when I was twelve, I was obsessed with donuts and chunky monkey. I wish I could go back to those days, and be in donut and chunky monkey heaven, instead of where I am now. I really hope we figure this out. Soon.

Sincerely,

Hanna


	8. H is for Help

Ch. 8: H is for Help

 _ **Help - used as an appeal for urgent assistance**_

Dear Diary,

I miss my dad. Today, I found out that he died, in the army. I didn't know how to react. Should I scream? Should I throw things? Should I cry? I didn't know. At least he died doing good for our country, my mom told me. But I could tell that she was trying to hold in her sobs. My dad, my hero, is dead. I haven't seen him in months. He's been away; in Afghanistan. And, I'll never see him again. I don't think I've really even processed this. He's gone, and I'll never see him again. Ever. My dad, the sweet, caring guy who scaled a building to get me out when I was scared. Who tried to help me find Maya when she was gone. Ugh. Why does my life have to be so hard? My friends and I were stalked by a faceless, nameless tormentor for over 2 years. My girlfriend died. I killed the guy who killed her, but that didn't make it hurt any less. I was almost sawn in half. A crashed a car through my house. A car. Then, we finally exposed A. Charlotte DiLaurentis. CeCe Drake, and I thought all of my problems would be over. Finished, gone. But, they weren't. My dad was in danger and I didn't even know it. I've been a mess this whole day. I drank so much vodka that I don't even remember what happened during a whole two hours. You know what, the weird thing is, it actually started out as a good day. Exams had finished yesterday, so my roommate and I had an early morning party so celebrate the end of exams. But, then I got a call. Not just any call, _the_ call. It was my mom. I could hear the sadness in her voice as she spoke. She said, "Honey, I just got some news. Your dad died," And I burst into tears. My roommate, Eliza, was just sitting there, rubbing my back, wondering what was going on. I've had a lot of bad days in the last - oh - 5 years. But this day is one of the worst. And if you know me at all, that's saying a lot.

Sincerely,

Emily


End file.
